


Beauty's Closed Eyes

by KimliPan



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Caretaking, Ficlet, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Poison, Unconsciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 07:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5700748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimliPan/pseuds/KimliPan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine accidentally drinks a poison that was meant for Arthur. Mistaking the behavior for being drunk, he's put to bed and left alone, giving the poison a chance to set in. This is his recovery, with Merlin at his side to care for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauty's Closed Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Val_Creative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/gifts).



> Go ahead and assume they capture whoever's responsible for the poisoning in the background of the story, so don't worry about an active threat to Arthur. It was an amateur's botched job. 
> 
> I wrote this as a distraction to help get me past my writer's block for school -- and it has gotten my creative juices flowing! I am grateful to [Val_Creative](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative) for the prompt ( _Merlin/Gwaine, hurt/comfort, canon era_ ). This is for you, boo!

His eyes open.

Gwaine feels cold. He's laying down, stripped to his trousers and tunic.

Merlin's room.

The itchy wool blanket isn't enough. The heated bedwarming pan at his feat isn't enough, the warm rag on his forehead isn't enough. He shivers, but he can't move his arms, can't pull the blanket higher. His head is heavy and he can't figure out why he's so cold…

He closes his eyes.

They open again and it's dark in the room. Fire this time. He's hot – too hot – is it even possible to be this hot? He squirms under the blanket, and he closes his eyes again as he sees Merlin picking up the blanket as it falls to the floor.

The next time he opens them, Merlin is beside him, sleeping upright in a rickety wooden chair.

"Hey," he whispers, voice hoarse. Merlin startles awake and drops the book in his lap as he rushes to wipe Gwaine's face with a damp cloth.

"You're awake. How do you feel?"

There's real concern there. Merlin's steely blue eyes bare into him, make him feel naked.

Gwaine gives a tired, toothy smile and shrugs. "Been better."

Sitting back, Merlin laughs, his face pinching to exaggerate the bags under his eyes. "You've looked better too, I'll give you that." The tease is gentle, soothing. Spoken as if he's trying to console him. Why? Why does Gwaine need comfort? Why is he even here? Why is he still so cold?

"I must've drank too much," he says, trying to sit upright, but his whole body aches and the movement makes his muscles feel like frozen fire.

"Something like," says Merlin as he pushes Gwaine back down in the bed. "Don't you dare move or you'll incur Gaius's wrath."

"Wouldn't want that," Gwaine agrees, a heaviness overtaking his lids once more.

A soft touch on his forehead, moist and gentle, like lips. A hand in his hair. It slides down to rest on his cheek. Gwaine heaves a breath, turns his head into the warm touch.

There's a light behind Merlin like a halo. He's holding the back of Gwaine's head, pressing a bowl of water to his lips. Gwaine sips it by instinct, but instantly recoils at the bitter taste.

"It'll make you feel better," comes Merlin's voice.

"Must be one hell of a hang over," Gwaine says, reaching up to put a hand on top of Merlin's to stop him from making him drink more whatever _that_ is. Merlin's skin is warm, calming like the sun, and Gwaine rests the whole of his hand against Merlin's arm to warm up his own hands. But his throat is sore – no, raw – and he could use the soothing touch of cool drink.

"Merlin, I… I can't seem to… wake up…" he murmurs as the proximity and heat lulls him back asleep.

A door opening.

"Merlin, you must rest!"

"And if the fever gets worse? No, I won't risk it."

A heavy sigh. Gaius.

"Very well. At least come downstairs to eat."

A sharp gasp for air. Gwaine's sitting up in the middle of Merlin's room, eyes wide, chest bare and heaving, and he realizes he's screaming when Merlin comes storming into the room.

"It's alright, you're alright, Gwaine," he says, his words practiced and even in their urgency, as if he's been saying it right all along.

"I took Arthur's drink," he remembers with a start as Merlin eases him back onto the pillow. The barmaid had laid it out in front of them and Gwaine snatched it right up, winking at her to bring on out another.

"I know, I know," Merlin urges, pulling the blanket back up over his chest. He holds the bitter water out for Gwaine to drink again.

When he started feeling heavy and falling down, everyone thought he was drunk.

"Gods, Merlin, have you even slept?" Gwaine asks as he pushes the water away. He's ashen, dirty, and his hair is a mess. Merlin's brow furrows, and he makes a face more candid than his usual, practiced walls of disregard.

"Drink the water or I'll have to force you," is his answer.

He lays his head back in protest. "It's freezing in here…"

His eyes fall shut.

Birds. Chirping. Gwaine squeezes his eyes shut at the song; they're too damn chipper, and too damn loud. When he opens his eyes, he sees a heavy haze of light hanging in through the window. It's dawn, then. He groans at the thought, ready to roll over and go back to sleep when he realizes, he doesn't know how long he's been asleep _for._

Beside him, Merlin sleeps hunched over in that old, rickety wooden chair, his head resting on the bed. One arm is draped over Gwaine's lap, while the other rests beside him.

He's holding tightly onto Gwaine's hand.

Gwaine runs his thumb over Merlin's fingers. They're smooth, cold. Like a porcelain doll. He reaches his other hand over to first comb through Merlin's messy bedhead before he lets it fall on top of that cold, comforting hand, trying to warm it up.

 _He probably hasn't eaten_ , Gwaine thinks with a pang of guilt.

He closes his eyes and runs over what he can remember, and he sees nothing but Merlin tending to him, fussing over him, warming him. There was a delicate kiss to his forehead.

Gwaine rubs his hands together over Merlin's fingers. The servant stirs awake beside him, a moment of surprise striking his blue eyes as he realizes the clarity in Gwaine's consciousness.

"You're awake," he says.

A toothy, side-long grin.

"So you noticed."

Merlin blushes and pulls his hand from Gwaine's warming grip, and Gwaine pouts, making grabby hands to have it back.

"You were poisoned," he explains, looking sheepish as he gets up to fuss over things that don't need fussing. Gwaine pulls himself up to lean back against the wall as he watches Merlin, awkward and clumsy, tidy up things that he must have used while Gwaine was out.

"I gathered as much." He watches Merlin slap a few dishes on top of each other. He watches as his shoulders stiffen. And he sees Merlin's hands go up to wipe his face. "Y'know, I think I've been unconscious for quite a while, I could use some company over here," he says, patting his bedside, concerned for his younger friend.

When Merlin turns around, his eyes are swollen and damp.

"I'm the one who put you to bed," he blurts out, looking as though he was furious with Gwaine. "I _teased_ you for drinking too much, and _I_ left you alone! If you had died, I…"

Gwaine frowns, patting the space beside him once more. "How long was I out for?" he asks as Merlin quiets and takes the chair.

"Four days."

Gwaine holds his hand out for Merlin's once more, and this time Merlin concedes. He let's Gwaine take it and hold it between his palms, warming it. And he gives Merlin a toothy, side-long smile.

"Oh, that's nothing, mate," he says with his usual bravado. "And if I recall correctly, I believe I received a kiss from a strapping young lad while I was asleep, did I not?" Merlin flushes a deep crimson and gives Gwaine a playfully sour look.

"There you have it. I was fully equipped to rise." He squeezes Merlin's hand and lets it go. To his surprise, Merlin leans in and plants another kiss on his forehead.

Gwaine is shocked.

He watches as Merlin gets back up and and starts cleaning again, at a complete loss of words at the open display of affection. He doesn't know what he expected, but perhaps a bit of bashfulness or even denial at the very least.

"I can tell you this," Merlin says as he carries a stack of rags and bowls toward the bedroom door. "You were _no_ sleeping beaty."


End file.
